


grand phoenix project

by Elisye



Series: EXEC_REBIRTHIA=PROTOCOL/. [1]
Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Alternate Universe - Future, Alternate Universe - Space, M/M, Simulation AU, anyone who finds the surge concerto refs gets cookies, hope you guys enjoy one-sided pairings bc that saiouma is way too ambiguous
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-07
Updated: 2017-08-07
Packaged: 2018-12-12 04:02:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11729094
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elisye/pseuds/Elisye
Summary: [ NDRV3 SPOILERS PRESENT ]It might have been fiction, but some parts weren't as unreal as they were written to be.At least, the Gopher Plan wasn't entirely made up.





	grand phoenix project

**Author's Note:**

> SCREAMS EMPTILY INTO THE VOID
> 
> also not beta'd or edited much bc im lazy and i really want to scream. like Scream SCREAM, friends.

 

"How are you?"

The lady smiles thinly. Anyone can figure out the answer.

You flex your hand a little, wonder about history, half-forgotten memories expecting an empty metallic touch and the other half expecting nothing. Nonetheless, the smile on your face is glued there, wide and plastic, and at least humans have empathy as much as they have the will to kill. (And you, obviously, make sure the train halts at that very thought, going absolutely nowhere else. Absolutely, absolutely.)

She takes your eventual lack of anything as a response, idly scribbling notes on the side. There's something motherly in her eyes as she regards you. "It's been a while since you've had a body, Ouma-san. It must be hard to readjust."

"Hard is an understatement, Yamamoto-chan!" You lean forward, faux excitement and interest colored all over. "Can you guess how long I've been in there? A few decades? Centuries? Or—"

"Roughly four hundred years." She laughs softly, opening a drawer to tuck away the electronic pad. "So much for that five hundred streak you were aiming for."

"Five hundred? Pretty sure it was a thousand now..."

The room hums with a pair of laughs. But the silence swarms right after, and there isn't much for a distraction. You can only pull your eyes to the window - a rare installation, showing the slow fade of stars and space outside. With an android body, you could easily recollect seeing the exact same thing, perhaps some twenty-odd centuries ago.

But you never try to, because your heart is far too human - far too weak, far too naive, far too touched by murder and love alike.

 

 

 

 

[INPUT TERMINAL]

[LOGIN -> N_YAMA/.]

[AUTO PRIVILEGE <= SECURITY_5LVL/TRUE  
                                 R_ACCESS/TRUE  
                                 W_ACCESS/TRUE  
                                 EX_ACCESS/TRUE  
                                 DEL_ACCESS/TRUE]

[CODE -> EX_ACCESS <= S_2016y17a8389292h8939823s1111ts.EXA/.]

[COMPILATION IN PROCESS...]

[COMPILATION COMPLETE]

[CODE -> R_ACCESS]

[TERMINAL IS BEING RECONFIGURED | PLEASE WAIT...]

 

 

yo, yama-chan.

[Informal as ever.]

and stiff as ever, i see

before you ask, i heard.

you guys did some reaaaaaaaaaaal naughty things

y'know, if we still had those big planetary activist groups, all of you would be

[Well aware, Ouma-san.]

[I was absolutely against it.]

[I told them about the psychological damage it would hold. And being one of the few remaining specialists on the subject, they should have listened.]

they didnt tho

[I thought they did! The executives said they wouldn't.]

and you were backstabbed!! (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:・ﾟ✧

[Please don't sound so happy about it.]

if you think im happy about being thrust into a murder festival without my consent, then you really need to look at your memory banks for corruption, yama-chan

actually wait, are you still a pure android now?

if you are, then thats a bore

a real sticker for tradition, indeed

[I've moved myself to a bio-android in the last decade or so.]

oh!! and how are those?? can they stick to the ceiling now?? the SOL-YR:6102 line was really amazing but they couldnt even stick to the ceiling can you believe how disappointed i still am about that i am

[Ouma-san, please.]

please what? （⌒▽⌒）

[I]

[Actually, never mind that, this isn't what I came to talk to you about.]

[Seriously now.]

?

 

 

 

 

The Ark continues to make its way towards an unknown eternity.

No matter how optimistic, time itself has been ruthless, and the future stretches on and on and on. People have reacted differently throughout. People hoped once. Hope is bitter to eat now. Not to say the fruit has rotted completely, because humans are just so persistent like that - but the world is a ship sailing in space, and that's all it will be for the foreseeable history ahead.

Knowing that, you see how there isn't much else to do while you're back out (or in?) here. Your designated residence has been untouched for a long, long time now, it's almost like a deja vu to be here. You lie down and stare at a projection of blue skies and sunshine, idly noting how it doesn't really compare to the simulation you were just in a couple of days ago. But even that simulation, despite its wholesome immersion, doesn't compare to the memory you have as one of those precious individuals from the pre-Ark era.

Real blue skies and real sunlight - real breezes and real morning-dew air. Real night-time and crescent moons, shared in a creaking wooden house on the far edges of an island country. Blurry days where you spent your childhood with a sweet old woman and absent parents. You lived the life of wallpaper. It was so, so peaceful.

(You had a friend who liked mystery novels and used to share your hesitations. Ah, how long ago was that...?)

There's the chime of a guest. You flick your wrist and let the door open. Yamamoto peeks her head inside and looks at you with a faint frown.

"Ouma-san, hiding yourself isn't going to solve anything."

"Who said I'm hiding myself now?" You say that, unable to put a trademark giggle to the end of it, and roll onto your side instead. "Besides, are those tests really necessary when anyway—"

"The more you talk about how futile it is to maintain you, the more necessary it becomes." Heels step across the carpeting, and strong but gentle hands begin to drag you up from the floor. "Now come on. You're the one who said to put you back in your original body. It's time you actually deal with it."

"Ehhhhh, but it's annoying!"

"After all the effort we took to remove your body from cryostasis, I think this is less annoying, you know."

You're pulled up on your feet. You glance up to find something, but in both Yamamoto's face and the ceiling projection, you can't find anything. Both material or value.

A sigh slips out far too easily, but thankfully, it isn't commented on.

 

 

 

"Welcome back, Ouma-kun."

Shirogane Tsumugi gives you a tired smile. You don't return it.

"Morning, Shirogane-san." Yamamoto replies instead, professional and calm. It's almost something to envy. "Are you here for a checkup as well?"

"Ah, no, not exactly." The girl thumbs the edges of her skirt, ion lights glowing on the fabric wherever her fingers brush it. She keeps her eyes clearly averted from the two of you as she speaks again, "I'm here to give a report on the Semester of Killing simulation."

"I see. Because you were the Administrator for that particular one?"

"More or less."

Yamamoto nods understandingly, and soon moves along. You give one last look to Shirogane as she stares vacantly at the tiled floors.

You don't want to feel pity for her. Resentment is one of those pure things that makes a person human. But even so, as the two of you turn down the corner, blue hair and artificial flesh disappearing behind you, you end up spilling thoughts all the same. "Did she know?"

"As Administrator? Yes, she knew it was all fake."

You breathe. It feels deep but stale. "They're called 'immersion reality simulations' for a reason, though."

"Exactly why we have a long clause of paperwork saying we can only simulate certain things." The lady narrows her gaze at something far ahead. "I am so damn prepared to sue the person who proposed a _death_ simulation."

You twirl a lock of your hair around your fingers. The purple dye on the tips has long faded out. You consider getting the dye reapplied - maybe change up the color even? Oh, but then it won't match your purple contacts very well unless you make it deliberate. Not that you have the mood or energy yet for too-whimsical things. "Well, considering how we can just store our consciousness wherever, making us pretty immortal in a way..."

"Death is still death," comes the awfully clipped response. "Even if we can live forever, we can't forget we're human. And death will always be the worst thing for us."

Your lips pull themselves into a painful smile, and you make a half-hearted hum of agreement.

 

 

 

 

how's progress?

[The removal process just got green-lighted. We'll be putting you back in your body soon enough.]

good good!! i cant wait to get back to my body! 

nothing like good ol' blood and flesh to exist in

even if

even though

i

i m a l re a dy

eve n thou gh im just

[CODE -> W_ACCESS -> RESET <= S_2016y17a8389292h8939823s1111ts.EXA/.]

[RE-COMPILATION IN PROCESS...]

[RE-COMPILATION COMPLETE]

...

[...]

yama-chan.

[Yes?]

id appreciate it if you could stop doing that.

its not going to stop.

[Perhaps so, but these occurrences still concern me all the same.]

and im telling you

it shouldn't be helped!!

at least as i am, i have to remember

none of it was real. the setup was a false thing.

but everything else

the experiences and the people

theyre all

[I know. But I don't want you to completely break yourself because of those memories.]

because that's your job?

as a dedicated member of humanity, dedicated to preserving humanity

even though we've spent so long out here that we don't remember how to be human anymore?

[It's exactly because of all that, that I have to make sure humanity reaches another Earth.]

[Everyone on this ship is here for that sole reason. So that humanity continues, or at least its essence does.]

[And the way you feel now - it's the most human thing I've seen in a long time, you know.]

that's ironic, yama-chan.

if im so human, what does my anger mean? why am i disgusted to be alive out here?

if human instinct means we want to survive, then...

[Ouma-san.]

[That is guilt. And it is human.]

[And more the reason I have to make sure you don't decide to hack into the system and erase yourself.]

wow yama-chan, you're such a sadist.

[Sometimes the only option available is the extreme one. That's why we're on a ship in space, I suppose.]

 

 

 

You watch over the shoulders of some staff members, seeing them input several lines of code within seconds. On the walls, an array of screens show an array of different simulations. A simulation of a pre-Ark land called France, a simulation of a purely fantasy world, a simulation of a fictional town resembling your home but a bit more urban. You only glimpse at the code and the screens filtered with passing interests, an annoying thought in the back of your head all the while.

(If you look long enough, maybe, maybe, you can see him again—)

Blue hair enters the room. Shirogane freezes up a bit on seeing you, but quickly tries to move on. The _Danganronpa_ emblem etched into her shirt shimmers a little as she collects something from one of the staff, exchanges whispers with another member, and finally approaches you with timid _thunks_  of retro platform heels.

"Natsuhi-san will take a while to come back." The girl could make wrinkles in her clothes, the way she's clutching at them. "She told me to pass that message."

"Old-fashioned as ever," you comment idly, arms crossed behind your head.

"Well, if you were an android or bio-android, she could have sent the message herself, but..."

"Guess that says a lot about me, right?" You flash her a horrible grin. She simply grimaces a little at that. "Old-fashioned or stubborn, what do you think I am, Shirogane-chan?"

She regards you with a quiet stare, before following your line of sight to a random screen. The simulation is a rainy city built with rudimentary brick and mortar. A man in a pale trenchcoat tries to valiantly tail a suspicious fellow down narrow alleyways and smoky roads.

"Unfortunate," Shirogane replies. "Because Saihara-kun and the others won't be removed from the simulations."

Something icy grabs hold of your lungs for a moment, even though you knew and know, even though - you drop your hands at once to your sides and turn to her, eye meeting eye. Plain fact and resignation swirl there. Though this is the age where even androids can lie, so, so—

"Even though they damaged the simulation a lot, ours was just one in a thousand of them." The girl watches one such display, trying to smile, the expected glee or light never coming to her eyes. She can't play-pretend. You, too, cannot play-pretend forever. "Even if they broke out of it, that was only a temporary thing. Even you can understand how effortless it is to just pause their data for a moment and then transplant them into another simulation as we like. Though..."

A deep sigh murmurs. For once, it's not your own. "If only they believed that they were truly fiction... because, it really was. In a sense."

"It might have been a simulation, but it was a simulation of _reality,_ " you bitterly bite back. Her demeanor becomes a touch hesitant, but she doesn't truly flinch away. Outside of the script, it seems, she isn't as frail as she played herself to be.

"I know. But their attempt to break out of the simulation was dangerous. It could have corrupted their data, and in the worst case scenario, corrupted the data of the victims and the culprits that we had kept on standby." She shakes her head at the image of her own words, speaking softer, disapprovingly, "None of us wanted anyone to genuinely die from the simulation."

"Then you shouldn't have put us in a death simulation to begin with."

She just stares at her shoes. "I had no control over that."

" _Excuses._ " You scoff, perhaps a bit too harshly, but seeing the girl clench her hands for a second is still worth it.

Yamamoto comes by in the next couple of minutes. She looks between the two of you, her face carefully set not to betray anything, and you make sure she has nothing to ask about by insisting on going to an ice cream place somewhere downtown.

 

 

 

 

"Hey, Kokichi-kun."

"Hm?" You look up from your book, seeing the other boy stare far off into the distance. The foundations of the ship's city, Soleil, glow under a fake sunset produced by the ship's cold interior. You try hard not to think about how not too long ago, the two of you bid farewell to your home planet.

"Do you..." He fidgets with his fingers, and then with the cap on his head. "Do you want to go back?"

"To Earth?" You sit up straighter. "A little late to wonder, since we already left."

"I know, but - that's not really what I'm talking about." His gaze lowers a little. With the cheap cap and cheaper haircut he got, you can't really tell where his eyes are going. You try and guess all the same, and your eyes fall onto a little building on the furthest edge of the city. You immediately frown.

"Tomorrow, we're going to be put into simulations." Saihara continues softly. "We might never leave them, at least until we find another planet. But would you want to, someday...?"

You keep staring at the building. You're honestly not sure of how to feel about everything. Being one of the chosen survivors of Earth is one thing, but then to separate your consciousness and play out millions of worlds for who knows how long? Numb is an easy emotion to feel, but you're sure there's something more raw to feel underneath everything.

You close your eyes for a moment, breathe, and then look at your friend.

"We already signed the forms," you say. "You're in there until we get out of this ship."

"But in the intervals of the simulations, we have the choice of changing our minds. It says so on the forms."

"So you want to know if you should change your mind?" You raise an eyebrow, and then laugh brightly. The boy squirms a little under how cheerfully you seem to consider it all. And in a way, it _is_ a little ridiculous. "That's not for me to decide!"

"I know, I know—" Saihara adjusts the brim of his cap. "But, there's no guarantee we'll ever see each other inside the simulations. The best possibility of that is outside of it. In reality."

"The same applies for reality, though. We can't tell when either of us could be in reality." You lie down on the fake grass, and wonder thoughtlessly if you're going to miss even the itchy, not-right feeling of this grass. "Besides, why would you want to leave the simulations? I mean, not much is going to be out here. And the closest thing to Earth are those simulations - tell me, Saihara-chan, do you really want to be out here, or in there?"

"I..."

The answer is obvious, and you never tell him that you tick-marked the box for 'external resurrection' on those forms.

 

 

 

 

You were a coward. You couldn't tell him anything that mattered.

So you'll regret that cowardice in reality, it seems.

 

 

 

 

On one screen, a simulation of an ordinary school life plays itself.

Saihara Shuuichi is a young detective in training, but doesn't get many chances to put his knowledge to use in brutal cases. Instead, he spends it on mundane, at times heart-warming cases with his thirteen classmates.

(Some days, he turns towards an empty fourteenth and fifteenth desk, blinking at a phantom of blue hair and catching a childish giggle breezing past his ears. He always spends a few moments just staring at those illusions, wondering what and why, but Momota eventually pats him hard on the back and he's dragged along with Harukawa and Akamatsu to their club room for their daily meetups.)

On the other side of the screen, Ouma throws a fleck of popcorn, letting it phase through the holograms, and hears Yamamoto's scolding go in an ear and out the other.

If Saihara were to come out of the simulations and realise his best friend killed his other friends, even in a simulation, the outcome is far too clear to see and thus far too easy to block out before Ouma can even try to picture it with detail. So it's a good thing that they'll be where they are for quite some time.

And living in a human body that might give out one day, perhaps all the better.

 


End file.
